I'm Bad, But You're Worse
by MissScaryKitty
Summary: Alura's got a thing about stealing Rick's inventions and selling them to whoever for top-dollar. She's like the Catwoman to his Batman... only without the hot S&M gear. Luckily for him, she might be taken care of by the Federation quite soon. But what if when the time comes, Rick kind-of gets used to having her around?... sort of (Rick/OC)
1. Chapter 1

AN: Takes place after "Rick Potion #9".

Chapter 1

"Looks like the old man got new digs," Alura muttered, surveying the strangely normal suburban home through her tactical binoculars. She simply had to roll her eyes. "White bread family, adorable dog, green front lawn… jeez, all that's missing is a white picket fence."

It was all too strange. This wasn't Rick's normal MO. She had to wonder what the hell was going on. Did he finally grow a conscience and settle down into a typical human life? She hopped not, because that meant she was shit out of luck as far as her buyers went.

"He better be inventing his ass off in that garage," she said, before trying to shimmy out from the bush she was hiding under and getting her hair caught in the branches. "Aw shit..."

Alura waited in her spacecraft till nightfall to make her move. The cloaking device kept her hidden from view but it didn't stop birds from flying into it every now-and-then making her a little more than suspicious. Still, this was Earth and the creatures on it were far less intelligent than the beings she was used to dealing with. Anyone who saw would probably blame it on abnormal winds, paranormal activity, or some other stupid shit.

Once 3am rolled around, Alura hopped out of her ride and headed over to the house across the street. Taking out a scanner from her satchel, she began to disable the security system. It was rather simple... just a basic house alarm, laser field, and motion sensor machine gun turrets.

"Jesus... you're f*cking slipping Rick," she muttered under her breath before cracking the garage door open and sneaking inside.

Clicking on the flashlight clipped to her vest, Alura began to survey her surroundings, looking for anything valuable. Her gaze paused on a box perched on a shelf to her left and cracked a grin. "Hmmm… "Time Travel Stuff". It's just stupid enough to be promising."

She made a B-line to the seemingly abandoned box of junk and rummaged inside. Finding a piece of machinery that looked interesting, she slipped it into her satchel. Whatever it was, Alura figured it had to be worth something.

Tucking the box away, she slowly began to walk around the garage, deciding what the big-ticket items might be. It wasn't like Rick had labeled anything and to the untrained eye, it all looked like grody space trash. She wasn't after anything in particular. Honestly, she was looking for anything that would earn her a dime. Times had gotten a bit desperate in her corner of the galaxy and she needed a bit of a boost to get her back on track. She would feel bad, however, Rick was only ever on the side of Rick so she had somewhat of an excuse not to care.

Suddenly, she heard a pained groan and a big pile of space trash behind her began to move. Alura immediately pulled out her plasma gun and aimed it at the mound.

"If you're a genetic experiment turned abomination in need of a mercy killing, tell me now or I'll be forced to make this incredibly painful for you!" She sternly warned the creature slowly clawing its way out of the trash.

"Goddamn it…" grumbled the incredibly familiar voice of Rick Sanchez at he rose up from the mess he'd passed out in a few hours earlier. The drunken genius stumbled into the light, confused and angry. "A-uuurp-Alura, what the hell are you doing here?" he snapped, the smell of liquor on his breath was overwhelming.

"I should ask you the same thing," she snorted, watching as he stumbled over a few empty glass bottles. "What are you doing in this shithole playing grandpa to these useless flesh sacks?"

Rick fixed her with a dead-eyed stare and hiccupped before answering her. "Well it was either this or a shelter."

"Bullshit. You could do better, Sanchez," she muttered, begrudgingly complementing him.

"Apparently not," he grumbled, stepping up and pushing her gun aside.

She didn't fight him as he pulled the satchel off her shoulder and emptied it onto the table. Usually she would kick anyone who tried to touch her in the nuts but this time was different... not-to-mention she knew better than to f*ck with Rick Sanchez. He had enough cybernetic implants in him to be legally registered as a Terminator.

Rick held up the machinery she'd stolen and gave her a pointed look. "You know this shit is useless, right?" He was met with tense silence. "What are you doing here, Alura?"

"Isn't it obvious, genius? I was stealing shit," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Rick raised a sky blue eyebrow at her evasiveness. "You know, it's not r-really an insult to call an actual genius a genius, idiot."

"Tch... whatever," she snorted.

"Seriously, why are you here?" he pressed.

Alura fixed him with a hard stare for a moment before finally breaking down and answering him. "I need money... I need it or it's f*cking curtains for me, if you catch my drift."

"Jeez, that sucks," snorted Rick, his voice ripe with sarcasm. But when he saw that she was dead serious, he felt a twinge of regret. "S-so what did you do this time? Sell some gromflomite ass-wipes a bunch of duds?"

"No, I wish," she muttered before sitting on one of his work counters. "I found evidence of a major archeological find on Epsollia D55. There's an artifact hidden there which is extremely valuable."

"So what, you're a grave robber now?" he smiled. "Nice."

"Xeno-Archeologist," she corrected. "Anyway, I got a few interested, albeit questionable, parties to fund the expedition but now that I have come up empty-handed they want their money back."

"No surprise there, uurrrp. So what did this artifact thing-y do?" asked Rick.

"It's an ancient weapon... a virus manufactured to analyze any living organisms genetic code and asses the best way to deconstruct it until the targeted species is wiped out of existence. The virus was named Gorminite and was essentially the ruling race's super weapon until they were destroyed by it. Basically, it's genocide in a bottle."

Rick stared at her for a moment, a glop of spit dripping from his mouth as he took in the massive bomb she just dropped.

"You know," he said. "We have a show here on earth called "Ancient Aliens". You should hear the bullshit tales they try to spin too. I-I really think you'd be a great addition to their writers staff."

"Shut up!" she cried, jumping off the counter. "This is serious. The sources I have are real this time... Gorminite is real and my entire expedition team is dead from trying to get a hold of it."

"And how'd that happen? A bunch of mummies come to life?" Asked Rick, holding out his arms in front of him in a crappy impression of the undead.

"No. Stop it," she said, slapping down his arms. "Someone tipped off the Intergalactic Federation about the virus and they ambushed us in the ancient city. They're tearing that place apart looking for the weapon as we speak. One can only assume they want it for themselves. Even you can appreciate how dangerous that is."

Rick simply let out a burp, which Alura chose to ignore and move on.

"Now these asshole investors are breathing down my neck, wanting to know what happened, and if I don't get their money back then that's the f*cking end for me."

"So what? You think stealing from Old Man Rick here is going to make it better?" he mocked, pulling out his flask and taking a swig.

Alura swiped the canister from his grip and took a long drink for herself before handing it back to him. "It would have been a step in the right direction."

"So... what do you owe these investors?" he asked, curious to see how deep the hole she had dug herself was.

"A fucking shit-ton," she groaned, wishing she hadn't given up his flask so soon. "You weren't the only person on my list to visit"

"Look around you honey, do I look-uuurp like I'm rolling in it?" He asked, throwing his arms up and motioning to his cobweb-infested garage. "Luckily for you, I have a whole lot of bug-out bags specifically designed for situations like this. You know, the kind of situation where you decide to implode your whole life."

"I get it!" growled Alura. She hated being lectured, especially by a drunken wreck like Rick Sanchez. This wasn't the first time she hit the reset button on her life and that was frustrating enough.

Reaching beneath one of the counters, Rick pulled out several black duffle bags and plopped them down on the workbench beside her. "Y-you know the drill. Just take one and start a new life. Hell, take two… k-knock yourself out. Grave robbing isn't the most lucrative career anyways, stick to stealing from people who are still alive."

"It was xeno-archeology..." she corrected him once more before opening one of the bags and seeing a couple wads of cash, a blank intergalactic passport, several on and off-world firearms, and other assorted urban survival gear. Suddenly she paused.

"Why are you helping me?" She asked, not certain she should trust him.

Rick took a swig from his flask, side-eyeing her. "I don't know... because the enemy of my enemy is my friend? That sort of Sun Tsu bullshit."

"You hate the Intergalactic Federation that much? Geez, and I thought I had problems..." she replied shaking her head and slinging the duffle bag over her shoulder.

"That and w-urrrp-whatever gets you out of my hair faster," he shrugged.

"Yeah, because you were sooo busy before I showed up," she said, rolling her eyes. "Guess that's my hint to leave."

She's only taken one step towards the door before Rick said something that stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Keep that virus, the Gore Mennonite or whatever, safe, okay? I don't live on cloud 9, but I sure as shit don't want to be torn apart one protein at a time."

"H-hey!" she cried, spinning around- her heart stopping in her chest. "I never found the virus, weren't you listening-"

Rick drunkenly pressed a finger to her lips, shutting her up. "Shhhh, don't insult us, sweetheart. I think we both know why you went out to get that virus in the first place. You're really just a-uuuurp just a soft touch."

Again, she felt a surge of embarrassment as her cheeks flushed red. Rick was 100% right as always. She did manage to get the virus and, what's more, she never intended on handing such a dangerous weapon over to her investors. No one had figured it out but Rick, the guy who seemingly didn't understand altruism but was showing her (an unlikely candidate) a bit of kindness.

"I... I don't know what to say," she muttered lamely, literally at a loss for words.

"Then how 'bout you don't say anything? Just remember," he told her, "Don't die and fuck the Federation."

Alura couldn't help but crack a weak smile. This was the one thing they both could universally agree upon, if nothing else. "Yeah... fuck the Federation."

They laughed at that for a minute… Rick perhaps laughing for too long and too manically. And with that, Alura headed for the door.

"Thanks Rick, I mean it..." she told him. "See you around."

Alura flashed him a quirk of a smile and then was gone. It was strange, but he wanted to entertain the idea that maybe he would be seeing her around. Just then the door to the house opened and Morty stepped into the garage.

"H-hey, Rick who was that?" he asked wiping his tired eyes.

"None of your damn business, Morty," he snorted, setting to work on some random gizmo.

"Oh, I mean, it just looked like maybe she was a friend of yours o-or something," said Morty, not daring to admit he heard some of their conversation from the other side of the door.

Rick sighed, turning back to his grandson; too drunk and tired to fully explain. "Her name's Alura and she's a pain in my ass. She shows up from time to time, mostly when things are going wrong for her. Let me put it into terms you'll understand; she's like the Catwoman to my Batman, o-only without the hot S&M gear."

"So you like her?" Asked Morty, somewhat hopeful.

"Seriouly, Morty? What the hell's wrong with you?" Rick snapped.

"Well I mean, Catwoman and Batman they're like… you know. And she's s-some kind of g-genius like you… so I thought…" Morty stuttered, trying to explain.

"You th-uuurp-thought wrong. She's a lying, sack of shit who just tried to steal my work and sell it to who-the-fuck-ever for cash," he grumbled. "A-also she's NOT a genius, she's clever. I'm fucking light-years ahead of her intellect. Why do you think she has to jack my shit instead of making her own? Jesus, Morty, get-get with the program."

"R-right," nodded Morty, only he wasn't entirely convinced. "Still, you let her off pretty easy."

Rick carelessly tossed the gizmo aside, apparently having made nothing out of it.

"Alura's got a pretty shitty life, and now it's only going to get worse. Honestly, the humane thing to do would be to let her die quickly instead of enable her to limp on, uselessly clinging to hope until her bitter end. I wouldn't say that's 'letting her off easy' Morty." Rick explained, emphasizing that last bit with air quotes.

Morty shook his head, "Wow Rick. T-t-that's pretty messed up."

"I know, but that's how most of the creatures in this universe die, Morty. Se la -urrrrp- vie," he explained with a half-hearted shrug. Passing Morty, Rick headed towards the door. "At least she gets to go out young and- and with a nice ass."

Rick closed the door to the house behind him and shut off the lights, leaving a very confused Morty standing in the darkness.

"Geez," Morty muttered.

Making his way to the door, Morty accidentally knocked the piece of machinery Rick had been tinkering with onto the floor. Suddenly a net of red lasers shot out of the sides of the box-like contraption creating a fence across half the garage and blocking his way to the door.

"Laser security net activated," said a robotic female voice. "Unidentified users will be exterminated."

"Damn it, Rick," Morty sighed, realizing he was going to be stuck in the garage all night. Laying on his back, he stared up at the cobwebbed ceiling and wondered if life with Rick was ever going to get any easier.

AN: Read Review Favor Follow!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I made some updates to Chapter 1. Nothing major, however it's worth taking a look.

Chapter 2:

Morty sat with a zoned-out Summer and Rick on the couch, aimlessly flipping through inter-dimensional tv. No one would have known the 14 year old had talked his big sister out of running away to the Southwest only a few hours earlier. The Ball Fondlers marathon they'd been watching had long-since ended and Morty was trying to find something else to watch. Nothing seemed to jump out at him until something on a planetary system's evening news caught his eye. Things were getting pretty intense wherever they were filming. However, what stopped Morty from changing the channel was seeing a picture of Alura pop up.

"H-hey, hey! Rick, it's that Catwoman person on the news!" cried Morty, pointing to the screen.

Rick looked up to a blue-haired alien anchorwoman with a small picture of Alura in the corner. "It appears long-time fugitive and traitor of the Intergalactic Federation, Alura La Lunara..."

"Geez what a stupid name…" muttered Rick, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending not to listen.

"… has been found on Spa-Sketii 151 where a firefight between Galactic Federation officers and herself ensued after a speeder bike chase through downtown Saucenlolly. Apparently the officers received an anonymous tip that La Lunara was attempting a break-in at a virus containment facility. The images we are about to show are graphic and may not be suitable for some viewers…"

A window on the screen enlarged then, showing a Rambo'd-out Alura firing two automatic plasma rifles into a group of heavily armored Federation officers. Rick noticed a metal vial hooked to a ball chain around her neck, which he recognized as a container for transporting deadly diseases.

"F*ck the Federation! F*****ck the police! I'm going to blast every last one of you c*cks*ckers to roach hell!" screamed Alura before laying down some cover fire and running into the condemned building behind her.

The video then shrunk to the corner of the screen revealing the female anchor once more who looked disturbingly unfazed by what had just played. Keeping that creepy, ever-present, smile on her face, she continued.

"La Lunara is currently hold-up on the second floor of an old plumbis factory where the firefight has lasted over an hour. We now go live to Tom Thermblorp who is there on the ground. What do you see Tom?"

The screen switched to a tie-wearing octopus creature whom was huddled behind a bullet riddled car while streams of plasma rays flew out a window on the second floor of the factory behind him. It looked like a scene out of "Training Day".

"It's a bloodbath!... It's a f*cking bloodbath! Someone just… just make it stop!" The news reporter cried before the screen switched back to inside the studio.

"Thank you Tom," said the female anchor, not seeming to care about her coworker's precarious situation. "It is yet unclear if La Lunara can be captured and brought into custody or if the violence will end in further bloodshed. We will have more on this story after the commercial break."

"Shiiiiiit!" cried Rick before immediately jumping up from his chair and blasting a portal into the floor in front of them. "Come on Morty, Summer, uuurp time to take a field trip."

"What the hell, grandpa!?" Cried Summer, shaken out of her wandering thoughts as Rick pulled both her and Morty into the green swirling portal with him.

On the other side they found themselves caught up in the same firefight they had just been watching on tv.

"Rick, why… why the hell would you bring us here?" Yelled Morty as the trio huddled behind what little bit of cover they could find.

"Shut up!" cried Summer, looking anxiously over at the teams of heavily armed gromflomites literally swarming the area. "Do you want them to find us?!"

Sure enough, their yelling caught the attention of two nearby Federation officers.

"You hear that?" Asked the gromflomite on the right. "Do you think she brought backup?"

The one on the left pumped a round into his plasma rifle, zeroing in on the area the noises were coming from. "I dunno, let's check it out."

Summer shot daggers at her brother.

"Oh great! Now they're coming for us!" She snapped. "Who knew you'd talk me into giving our crappy family a second chance and then immediately lead me to my death? I should have left for Arizona!"

"M-m-maybe you should have!" Morty retorted. "You know, this wasn't my-"

Ignoring his bickering grandkids, Rick spryly dove out from behind their cover, grabbed up a plasma gun from a dead Federation officer laying nearby and rolling behind an abandoned vehicle where he shot both gromflomites down.

"You idiots done?" asked Rick, looking at his wide-eyed grandchildren.

"Yes-"

"Yes, Grandpa Rick."

"Good," he said, scooping up the gromflomite's guns and carelessly tossing them into Morty and Summer's hands. "Because it's time to- urrrp -kick some insect ass!"

***s*h*w*i*f*t*y***

Alura had migrated from the second floor offices into the packing room of the plumbis factory, looking for a way out. The appearance of the Federation at the virus containment facility was completely unexpected. The officers showed up so fast, there was no way they couldn't have been tipped off beforehand. It was clear that someone in her intel circle had betrayed her. Probably Rob, the demented f*ck.

Her heart jumped in her chest as she heard slamming doors down the hall behind her. She immediately ran for a place to hide. Heading towards a dark corner, Alura pressed herself against a giant ream of brown butcher paper and began searching in her satchel for another plasma charging cell for her rifle.

"Damn it," she whispered, finding that she was all out.

Alura heard the door to the packing room open and she immediately retreated further into the darkness. Peeking out from behind the paper ream, she could see three agents enter the room. Suddenly, the lights slammed on, taking away her one advantage.

Sneaking through the paper reams and shelves filled with packing materials, Alura positioned herself and waited for the agents to draw closer. Once they were right up alongside her, Alura turned out from behind a giant roll of plastic wrap and knocked the closest agent's gun aside. She then pulled him in front of her, using him as a shield as the other two agents shot him in the chest.

Grabbing the riot baton from the now-dead gromflomite's belt, she threw its body aside and smacked the agent to her left in the side of the head, knocking him out. The last agent to her right moved out of distance from her baton forcing Alura to throw herself into a diving roll and snatch up a discarded gun from the ground. Taking aim, she pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

Two red lights flashed on the sides of the gun then, an electronic female voice saying, "Unauthorized user. Safety engaged."

Laura's eyes went wide, "Aw shit."

"Oooops," the agent mocked annoyingly. training his gun on her. "You like that? New issue for Unit 66."

"Yeah, real cute." She muttered, knowing she was in real deep shit. "Does it come with a matching purse to put it in?"

***s*h*w*i*f*t*y***

"I really- I really don't think we should be here," whined Morty, as the trio snuck through the plumbis factory.

"Yeah," agreed Summer, whisper-yelling. "This is totally insane!"

"I- I mean, Alura La-Whoever seems a little unhinged. You know, kinda untrustworthy," Morty reasoned, stepping over a dead gromflomite. The hallway was riddled with them. "You said it yourself, she's no good- always thieving, trying to steal your work for money and all."

Rick was barely listening, however. He was more focused on the task at hand.

"Look, Morty, sometimes you just have to let shit go. Trust me on this," he said.

***s*h*w*i*f*t*y***

"Alura La Lunara... Everyone back at headquarters is going to be soooo jealous I caught you," the gromflomite's feelers twitched gleefully. "You can imagine some of them have hard feelings over the whole betrayal-thing."

"And I thought they'd miss me... fickle bastards," she snorted sarcastically. "Is Commander Daar-Lan still a fat-ass or did he finally go on that diet?"

"Jokes? You're telling f*cking jokes?" The agent snapped, not believing the gall of woman in front of him.

"What's life without a bit of levity?" She muttered, looking at him over the barrel of his gun. If only she could get him to come a bit closer...

"I hear you used to be hot shit, but I never thought you were anything special," he told her. "But hey, who cares? I get mad credit for your capture either way. Now give up the virus before I shoot you in the damn head," he threatened.

"Really? You think I'm going to give you one of the most powerful weapons in the universe because you threaten to kill me?" She asked. "What kind of pussy do you think I am?"

"Are you kidding me?" He cried, his frustration reaching its peak. "I've got a gun aimed at your head! I've got full authority to either kill you on the spot or take you to a black site and torture you till your brain turns to slime!"

"Yeah?" She asked, a smile spreading across her face. "Well I've got a Rick."

The gomflomite's eyes went wide. "A dick?!"

Suddenly, the officer got a hole the size of an orange blasted through the front of his head. The bug-like corpse fell, revealing Rick, Morty, and Summer standing behind it, the two kids looking shell shocked.

"She- she said a _Rick_ , asshole! Whubba-lubba-dub-dub!" Rick cried out, celebrating his awesome shot. "Did you- did you guys see that shit?"

"Saw it, felt it, tasted it…" answered a none-too-pleased Alura who was covered in black/green gromflomite blood. Shaking it from her hands, she attempted to wipe it from her mouth.

"Babe, you have no idea," muttered Rick with a confident smirk.

She shuttered to think of what he meant by that.

"Well thanks for saving me…" said Alura, standing up and passing the trio. "And don't call me babe."

"Hey, could you show me a little more f*cking gratitude. I just stopped that insect from making you a stain on the floor," said Rick.

"Yes. Let me rephrase: thanks for the incredibly delayed backup, which was almost seconds too late," she smiled facetiously before bending over one of the dead aliens and stripping it of it's ammo. "Besides, I could have handled it."

"I don't know, you looked pretty f*cked to me," Rick muttered.

"How did you find me here?" She asked.

That's when Morty piped up. "We- we- we saw the news and..."

"And Grandpa Rick here immediately dove straight into a portal to save you," finished Summer with a very smug smile.

"Don't try to inject your gushy teen romance novel bullshit into the situation, Summer," Rick snapped pointedly. Every person in the room at the moment was really trying his patience. "It just so happens Alura here is in possession of one of the universe's most deadly viruses, which she should have been smart enough to have destroyed by now. But apparently I've just been taught another lesson in 'trusting no one to do anything right but yourself'."

"Get off your high horse, Rick," Alura snorted, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I tried to destroy it at the virus containment center but the stupid thing is indestructible."

"Why didn't you just ask me to do it?" asked Rick. "I've got like urrrp at least 50 machines in my garage primed and ready to suck the life-force out of anything."

"I can vouch for that," interjected Morty, a bit too aware of that fact.

Alura turned her gaze on Rick again, "I figured the night you gave me a bag full of guns and a blank passport was my hard out from your life."

"Whoa, shit," muttered Summer. "Wait... you gave her a bag full of guns but somehow can't manage to get me a birthday present?" She asked, turning on her grandpa.

"This isn't a good time, Summer," Rick growled through his teeth.

"Anyway," muttered Alura, frustrated at the interruption. "This virus is different from any I've ever seen-"

"And blah blah, spooky hocus pocus bullshit. Trust me, there isn't anything I can't kill," claimed Rick before shooting a portal into the air next to them and ushering Alura through it to his garage.

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